


favoritism isn't my division

by patriciaselina



Series: The Parallelism Project [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patriciaselina/pseuds/patriciaselina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T&B+Hetalia crossover, part of the Parallelism Project. Barnaby thinks that maybe he has seen the Kirklands before; that he met Rosalie before he princess-carried her away from a hostage-taking, that he met Arthur before Kotetsu, the clumsy old man, spilled coffee on his scarf. Maybe they have met before, in some other place…because what other reason could there be for them to show up in his dreams? On the other hand, Arthur thinks back to a memory of his with the late Barnaby Senior, and an errant Chef Romana tries to win Barnaby’s heart…if only he’d focus on her as much as he did focus on her pasta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the length of this chapter, the four parts of this chapter shall be split apart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Barnaby meets Arthur, it is cold and Kotetsu spills a hot beverage on the British man's scarf.

Barnaby is not exactly sure what has happened.

 

The only things he is absolutely sure about are that this ‘Arthur’ man is cross, Kotetsu is an insufferable old man who just can’t stop himself from tripping over his own feet, and there are times that Barnaby is perfectly fine with blending into the background a la Origami Cyclone.

 

Unfortunately, luck had decreed it so that when Kotetsu trips over his own feet, he is not in an open area, alone, with no other people or priceless heirlooms within a twenty-mile radius. No, he just had to fall in the most inopportune of locations; either beyond a glass roof, or on top of a car, or in front of an Englishman who definitely will not enjoy having an impromptu coffee-bath.

 

Luck had also decreed that on this particular winter afternoon, everyone in Sternbild was freezing to their bones and thus was holding some kind of hot beverage, and Kotetsu T. Kaburagi was one of them.

 

From the looks of it, Arthur is probably cursing his luck to the seven levels of hell right about now, Barnaby thinks. Barnaby has been through such a predicament before, when he and Kotetsu barely knew each other and were entangled in Tiger’s grappling wires. He knows how the other blond would feel – and so he knows that Kotetsu will be lashed out on in the process. This is probably why he chooses to stay with Kotetsu, other than the fact that they are partners and are not supposed to desert each other.

 

Kotetsu, bless his soul, tries his best to rectify the problem, but knowing him his actions only serve to make the problem bigger. This is evident when Arthur swats at his tainted scarf, eyebrows crossed and voice seething with anger. “Stop doing that, will you? That’s cashmere, real cashmere you’re defiling!”

 

“I’m sorry, sir!” Kotetsu steps away with an out-of-place grin – probably remembering a moment he can relate to this misfortune, to those exact words; the memory with Barnaby, a pin, and a leather jacket, to be precise. The blonds Kotetsu had the knack of bumping into and irritating tended to be meticulous about their accoutrements, indeed. “How was I supposed to do it?”

 

“You’re supposed to wipe it gently, in even strokes, like this – “ Arthur begins, mindlessly, and his hand freezes over the scarf in question as he realizes his threatening façade has faltered. “ – and why am I even telling you such a simple thing, it’s not as if your careless actions ever did help matters – “

 

Just when Barnaby is about to open his mouth and say that no, Kotetsu _did_ help in certain matters, especially when he wasn’t being a bumbling old klutz, another voice is heard and the three men turn his direction. It is the pastry chef from his and Kotetsu’s favorite Italian restaurant, Barnaby remembers, and the former is waving one hand frantically as he bounds towards them, practically squealing “ _Ma sourcils~!_ ”

 

Barnaby is also surprised as to why the pastry chef calls his…friend(?) “eyebrows”, as while Arthur’s eyebrows are blond and thick and rather defined, they seem perfectly normal to the former. But from the look on Arthur’s face, it seemed as if he would prefer a thousand Kotetsu-accidents to being called “eyebrows”.

 

“I am not eyebrows, you bloody imbecile, and I am surely not _your_ eyebrows!”

 

“But you are, _ma sourcils_ , so I am going to keep calling you that~” The pastry chef’s arms wrap around the other man’s shoulders; the latter tries to fight the former off, of course. Resting his head on Arthur’s shoulders, it is only then that the Frenchman recognizes the other two people on the scene. “Ah, _bonjour_ , _monsieur_ s! You two are the ones I keep seeing at the restaurant, aren’t you?”

 

Kotetsu smiles and nods, the blond pastry chef smiles back. “Oh, so you are. I am terribly sorry, my dear customers, for you have just had the bad luck of bumping into this cranky little bunny – “

 

“Blast it all, Bonnefoy, I’m not a bunny!”

 

“…as you may have seen, _Monsieur_ Kaburagi, he is not only cranky, but also very prone to adamant denial – “

 

“You never do listen, don’t you? Damn.”

 

“Adamant denial, I’ve seen that.” Kotetsu grins that annoying cat-like grin of his, waggling his eyebrows at Barnaby for some reason. “It’s especially prevalent in a certain _other_ bunny I know – “

 

Barnaby stayed to protect Kotetsu to potential English-word-whipping, but as it was Barnaby is tempted to give the old man a word-whipping of his own.

 

As the pastry chef – Francis, he introduces himself – brings them to the general direction of _La Campagna_ (flailing Arthur Kirkland in tow), Kotetsu falls easily into step beside him, chatting up the other man and making the latter smile. On the other hand, Barnaby stays a few steps behind, and tries to figure out why Arthur Kirkland seems so very familiar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually, Arthur had seen Barnaby before.

It is the last day of October, and instead of going to some Halloween shenanigans his sons have dreamed up over cartons of beer, Arthur Kirkland is in a hospital, in a faraway city.

 

The hospital room is white, clinical, sterile. Just like the thousands of others he had at home, but he can feel that this is different; he can feel the gravity pulling him closer seeping into each and every one of his bones.

 

Of course that was what brought him here. He was not the kind of person who'd travel all the way to Sternbild just for nothing, after all.

 

The one who greets him is the father. He's grown older now, far much older from when they've last met, and it stings a little. “Nice to see you around, sir.”

 

“It is very nice to see you as well, Barnaby.”

 

Barnaby checks the hallways once, twice, and smiles. “The missus hasn't woke up yet, Artie, I'm sorry.” He grins, reverting back to using the familiar nickname. Upon hearing that, Arthur catches a peek of pale skin and blonde curls dozing off from behind Barnaby's shoulder. From all that he's heard, the young woman - mother, now - needed all the rest she could get.

 

The brunet checks his watch and turns to the other man with a smile. “But I could show you the little one! The nursery just opened.”

 

The two of them leave the room, closing the door quietly as not to wake Emily. Barnaby introduces Arthur to the nurses as "a family friend", no one second-guesses.

 

(Arthur is actually a family friend; it's just that he has not aged a day since Barnaby was fourteen. That's pretty much why they have no evidence of growing up together, other than their memories.)

 

“Here he is!”

 

The other man holds up a small blue bundle for Arthur to see, and the Nation finds himself being pulled by that unnerving sense of gravity again. The baby is beautiful, just like every other one he's ever seen, closed eyes and pale skin and long eyelashes with blond tufts of hair like his mother.

 

“I know it’s not exactly the best word to use for a male baby, but he’s beautiful, Brooks.”

 

The brunet raises an eyebrow. “Back to using surnames again, aren’t you, Kirkland?”

 

“Shut it. I can’t exactly call you just Barnaby now, huh? There are two of you with that name in this room, Senior.”

 

“Don’t you dare call me Senior, Artie.” Barnaby’s tone is supposed to be reprimanding, but when he does it in between cooing to a half-awake baby it comes out more as patronizing. It makes Arthur smile. “I’m pretty glad that he turned out just like his mother, though – even if a son with my looks would be just as handsome!”

 

At that, Arthur snorts. “I’m sure that the _world_ is pleased that the only thing little Barnaby is getting from you will be your name, fool.”

 

“I’m no fool, Kirkland; my boy is going to break hearts when he grows older. Come on, look at that face, will you? He’s bleeding perfect, that’s what he is.”

 

“I could imagine that happening, yes.”

 

(But for some reason, Arthur finds himself imagining that face again, only visibly older, leaner, with hair like his mother's and a strange pair of rose-tinted glasses-)

 

“Well…what do you know? I think he likes you, Artie.”

 

It is only then that Arthur snaps out of his reverie, and sees the infant looking back up at him. For a reason only he knows (aside from the fact that both Barnaby and Emily Brooks had blue eyes), Arthur had expected to see blue eyes stare back at him…which is why he is then surprised upon seeing the baby's green eyes locked onto him. Arthur would normally look away, but there is something about that emerald shade that is so familiar, as if he's seen those eyes before on someone else's face.

 

“I reckon that people are always going to ask me why he has green eyes when Emily and I have blue,” Barnaby says with a faint chuckle when Arthur points it out. “I could always say it's a recessive gene we both got from our parents, but you and I know the truth, don't we, Artie?”

 

Arthur honestly does not know, does not understand - that is, until the proud father raises his son up, looking at the baby’s little face and then at Arthur's.

 

“Sternbild is nothing like London, Arthur – my Nation; but every time I look into my son’s eyes,” And here Barnaby looks at Arthur, really looks at him, reminding Arthur – _England_ – that it is people like the man before him that give him the will to exist. “I will always remember home.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barnaby princess-carries a certain blonde who is not, by all means, used to be being a damsel in distress.

This was supposed to be a normal commercial shoot. _La Campagna_ was not as unknown as it was before, not with everyone knowing of its fresh pasta and its superhero patronage. So it would be perfectly rational that Agnes would arrange for them to star in a commercial for the restaurant in question - Chef Vargas had been a bit adverse to the idea, but Feliciano had been excited, of course. The script started with Tiger and Barnaby in their Hero suits, chasing an actor portraying a criminal NEXT out of the city and ends with the Hero pair stopping for plates of _Orecchiette con Broccoli e Pomodoro_ and _Zitoni col Ragu Napoletano_ after the debacle.

 

Barnaby did not know when the fake criminal NEXT became a real criminal NEXT. But what he did know was that the actor flipped out, grabbed a young woman in a royal blue coat with wavy blonde hair, and declared her his hostage. The actor's NEXT was apparently dangerous, if the words he picked up from whatever story Agnes had Mario concoct were to be counted as a description.

 

If the NEXT was dangerous, then Barnaby knew that the best way to go about it would be to keep the girl safe...however, that would entail him leaving Kotetsu behind, which was the worst way to go about it. Thankfully, Kotetsu had flipped his visor and told Barnaby something that approximated to "you take the girl, I'll take it from here" in Kotetsu-gaze-language, and Barnaby is flawlessly fluent in the language of Kotetsu's eyes, so Barnaby carried through with his plan.

 

There have been countless people who had been princess-carried by Barnaby Brooks, Jr., but only three of them are engraved into his memories: Agnes, light and trim with a womanly figure, ever so bossy; Blue Rose, lithe and slender and confused – she was so unsure, back then; and Kotetsu, muscular and athletic and just the right amount of warm, who he carried thrice. The girl he is carrying right now looks at him, and Barnaby has reason to believe she might be the fourth one he'd remember.

 

Her eyes are green, so much like his own, outlined with long blonde lashes behind red-framed spectacles. Her hair is long and reaches to about her waist, blond curls draped over his shoulder.

 

(There is this peculiar feeling of her seeming so familiar. Have they met before, by any chance?)

 

She breaks whatever spell she might have put Barnaby under when she raises her eyebrow. "I'd say thank you, my good lad, but I don't prefer being ogled."

 

The girl had perception, which was one thing that a man who spent too much time with Kotetsu T. Kaburagi desperately sought out in people. "If I made you uncomfortable, I apologize, ma'am."

 

"Don't call me 'ma'am'. I have a name, you know." Undeterred by the man carrying her in his arms, she makes a move as if to flip the loose portion of her hair over her shoulder, but decides against it.

 

She was taken hostage, Barnaby thinks, maybe snarking is just her defense mechanism and this was what Kotetsu felt when they first met, wasn't it. "A name you still haven't told me yet, miss...?"

 

The woman mutters something that sounds like "This man is persistent." She also thinks '...just like his partner, now', but doesn't say. She does know the man's pet peeves. (Or maybe she does not, because had she actually said that Barnaby would be more happy than irritated.) "I'm Rosalie Kirkland."

 

"Kirkland...so does that make you the sister of a man named Arthur?" They have been jumping around for some time now; in the back of his mind, Barnaby thinks that Kotetsu is probably done with the criminal, but he can't seem to set the girl down just yet.

 

Rosalie chuckles to herself, as if relishing some inside joke. "Siblings. Yes, that he is, my dear lad, my brother." She readjusts her position in his arms to look at him better. "A brother who will not be pleased seeing me princess-carried on TV, in fact."

 

"I lost the cameras some time ago, Lady Kirkland, so we're fine."

 

"How did you - "

 

"Your brother's been called a Lord the few times I've met him, so it would be safe to assume that you had some kind of nobility as well. Even if British titles don't apply in Sternbild...and, well, you look the part of a Lady, anyway."

 

Blushing, Rosalie finds herself thinking that she could get used to this. "Gentlemanly of you, dear," she says, her tone no longer at edge, but affectionate. "But I'd like it better if you called me Rosalie."

 

"Lady Rosalie," Barnaby says, almost a hum. "I like the tone of that."

 

Barnaby is now pretty sure that they've gone far enough, because there are no more buildings to jump to. "Where to?"

 

"Oh, I'm headed the same way as you; _La Campagna_ , right?"

 

"You and your brother have excellent taste," he says while turning to jump again.

 

She eyes him slowly, almost appreciatively, from his bangs spilling out of the visor to his armor-clad legs; thankfully he does not notice, focused on directions. "I guess we both have that."

 

They converse more on the way back, in which he learns that she just came from London and finds Sternbild "like a certain American city I know, only taller" and she learns that a Mr. Maverick (bless his soul...or not, from the look on Barnaby's face) taught him an impeccable British accent, that made Rosalie laugh and kiss him on the cheek.

 

(Barnaby sees himself younger, sadder, crying over a fire that happened days ago, and a girl who looked much like Rosalie wrapped her arms around him and carried him away.)

("Look for the things that will make you happy, my dear boy." she had said as he sobbed into her coat, kissing his tear-stained cheek. "Everything will be all right.")

 

"Are you all right, Barnaby? You look rather dazed over there."

 

Barnaby sees himself younger, sadder, crying over a fire…and Mr. Maverick took him away from it all. He cringes. "No, Lady Rosalie, it's nothing - "

 

The space below them must be La Campagna, because they could hear a heavily French-accented man's voice calling " _Ma petit lapin_!", and Rosalie frowns. She, on the other hand, raises a fist, shaking it the Frenchman's direction as they descend. "Damn, Bonnefoy, how many times do I have to tell you and your sister, not your blasted rabbit!"

 

"But you're carried by _Monsieur_ Kaburagi's dearest rabbit~" Before Barnaby’s mind could begin to reprimand the chef for noting Kotetsu’s nickname use, Francis bounds toward them, kissing Rosalie on both cheeks, and rests an arm on Barnaby's shoulder. "Speaking of which, I am sure that _Monsieur_ Tiger needs your help, right now."

 

Barnaby's shoulder freezes under Francis' hand, half because of the latter’s words, and half because he referred to “ _Monsieur_ Kaburagi” and “ _Monsieur_ Tiger _”_ with ‘speaking of which’ in between, and that’d make them one and the same, wouldn’t it. But instead, he musters up the courage to ignore it and say, "What happened?"

 

"He's been pretty persistent, but the criminal is persistent, too...he took Marianne, this time."

 

Rosalie's eyes narrow into little slits, and Francis moves away from Barnaby. "And why are you not helping her? You're her brother, in case you've forgotten."

 

"Well, the bad man has a NEXT, and it's not I who has a NEXT ability to match, but you Kirklands, and Arthur's out so..."

 

"Ugh. Fine." As soon as the words left her mouth, Rosalie is engulfed in a blue haze and her eyes transfigure to a familiar NEXT blue. Barnaby thinks that he shouldn't be surprised. "Where did he take her?"

 

"According to TV, it's a building near to something called the Fortress Tower, _ma cherie_. And good luck."

 

"Yes, some of my luck has been good today," she mutters under her breath, and when she turns she sees Barnaby holding out his arms to her. His eyes are green, she notices belatedly. "What?"

 

"I was offering you a ride in the motorcycle, my Lady, but I remembered that it only seats one, and Tiger has the sidecar, so..."

 

Francis raises an eyebrow and mouths ‘My Lady’; Rosalie tries not to notice this. "But your Hundred Power...?"

 

"...has not been exhausted, yet." His eyes glow a NEXT blue like hers, his breathing grows a little more even. "That was solely my jetpack, earlier. And I can get us to the vicinity of Fortress Tower in less than five minutes, yes."

 

Their second trip is shorter, and quieter, as both of them glow NEXT blue and think of what to do next. And he was right - his visor gives him three more minutes before his power deactivates when they see Tiger (who, from the lack of a blue glow, seems to have run out of powers), the criminal, and a flailing girl who Barnaby thinks to be Marianne.

 

Best of all, there are no helicopters overhead, so Barnaby thinks that the Hero TV cameras had gone off to focus on what they deemed to be more important things. Like Blue Rose singing songs that held hidden confessions of love to certain clueless old men.

 

Rosalie introduces them to the scene with an annoyed "Bonnefoy, just because your eyes are blue it doesn't mean they work as a persuasion NEXT."

 

" _Merde_ , _ma cherie_ , I almost got him!"

 

One of Kotetsu's eyebrows raises when he sees his partner setting the Englishwoman down gently beside the former and Barnaby. "What are you looking at?" Barnaby challenges, eyes glinting and cheeks not burning.

 

"Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking that you are so nice to ladies, Bunny."

 

"I'm nice to you as well, Kotetsu."

 

Kotetsu replies with a disbelieving snort. "Only sometimes."

 

"Only when you deserve it."

 

"Listen. I love your domestic bickering as much as the next person, but we're kind of in a situation here, good lads." Surprisingly, it is Rosalie who snaps them out of their banter, with an annoyed tinge to her voice. The hostage-taking NEXT is saying something about how the three of them better stay away or he'll fire again (Barnaby thinks that whatever the man has fired must be what messed up Kotetsu's armor), but Rosalie sighs, rolls her eyes, and says "Oh, shut your trap." which, by all means, is not a healthy way to respond to homicidal NEXTs.

 

Then she barrels towards the direction of the other two - _barrels_ , like Rock Bison breaks into walls - and intercepts a flaming burst of energy thrown her way with a flick of a finger and a sparking barrier. It had taken her all of a few seconds, but that was all it took for Rosalie to snatch Marianne out of the hostage-taker's grasp and surprise the hostage-taker into Barnaby's hold.

 

Landing on the roof of an adjacent building, Rosalie keeps Marianne steady in a princess-carry, despite being smaller in size and shorter in height than the other woman. Barnaby finds himself thinking he taught her well.

 

"Well now, Bonnefoy? I told you, there are times when isolation can be splendid."

 

"Yes, _ma lapin_ , your splendid isolationism translates into NEXT barriers in this world, which you used to save me." Marianne pecks Rosalie on the cheek, vaguely like how the Englishwoman had done to Barnaby earlier. "I am lucky to have a friend like you, Rosalie Kirkland~"

 

Rosalie turns away so that Marianne cannot see her treacherous smile. "I'm not your friend, Bonnefoy."

 

When the two women are out of sight - safe, his mind supplies - Barnaby remembers the hostage-taker flailing in his grip and his NEXT powers fading. He tightens his hold, activating his jetpack. "Let's take him down now. Kotetsu?"

 

"Okay, okay." Kotetsu almost-sighs, aiming his grappling guns somewhere near the railings of the rooftop. When Barnaby jumps from roof to roof, he swings from railing to railing. "Your friend seems nice."

 

"Yes, she was. She told me that was her first time using her NEXT, and for a first-timer, that was a bloody good spin - "

 

"Oh, and you also picked up her accent, Bunny."

 

"She taught me well - never mind." Barnaby says in reply to the smirk his partner is throwing him, reverting back to his normal tone of voice. When they reach the police station, he can only vaguely remember handing over the criminal, someone tallying in Barnaby's hundred points for rescuing Rosalie and the pair's two hundred points for arresting the hostage-taker.

 

Their conversation continues when the pair goes out of the police station, to the truck to get out of their suits. According to how broken Kotetsu’s suit now is, the commercial shoot can wait for later. "So, are you going to see her again?"

 

"Rosalie? Maybe, she’s a regular at _La Campagna_ , as well…why do you ask?"

 

"I’d say that she’d be just your type, if you didn’t look so much like her." Barnaby initiates the process of wiping his mental decks to pretend that this conversation never happened, but Kotetsu keeps talking. Like he always does."Blond hair, green eyes, glasses, bad temper, love for princess carries. And the two of you hit it off so well that you arrested the guy on the roof on your first try." Kotetsu then frowns his ‘please pay attention to me’ frown, and Barnaby knows that it could only mean one thing.

 

"Are you jealous, old man?"

 

"Wha – what, wait, who’s jealous? Stop being so cocky, _oi_ , Bunny!"

 

"Foolish old man. I won’t replace you for anyone else in the world."

 

The smile on Kotetsu’s face was almost worth the clap on the shoulder and the subsequent embarrassment. Almost.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dreams are what confuse Barnaby the most.

The dreams are what make him feel the weirdest.

 

They’re, by far, not as weird as dreaming of one’s partner (and supposed best friend) killing one’s parents against a flaming backdrop, but they’re weird all the same.

 

Mr. Maverick was the one he remembered in those memories when he wakes, but in sleep all his parts are scratched out and replaced with someone else. A girl with long blonde hair carrying him on her shoulders, a blond man holding an umbrella to shield him from the rain; both of them had the same green eyes.

 

A little boy joins him in his dream-memories from time to time, looking almost exactly like the blond man but with rounder cheeks and a bigger grin. He holds out a hand to Barnaby, who is as little as the other boy, and the latter takes it, smiling merrily. They run in the dream, and it’s different from all his childhood memories of running – running from the fire, running to Ouroboros, running from his naiveté. In this dream-life that a Barnaby Brooks, Jr from twenty years ago may have lived, there is no fear, no darkness, no dreams of revenge consuming his young mind.

 

The dreams tell him that his family was killed but someone took him in, three someones, siblings with the same blond hair and green eyes and pale skin (just like his own). They filled out the papers and helped him study and taught him to make scones. They stayed by his side when nightmares of snakes biting tails and flames persisted, brought him and the youngest to the park to forget the night terrors.

 

The oldest of the three is a tall man with short blond hair sticking out oddly in different directions; the faintest of dark circles underscore his green eyes, and from the looks of it he works until midnight and early morn, except for the times when he attempts making supper (and fails) and teaches the two little boys how to read and make roses bloom. The young lady is shorter, more slender, with soft blond curls that Barnaby and the young boy braid in complicated coils learned from much practice.

 

Barnaby thinks that these people must have meant something to him. He knows that quite a sizable chunk of his memories have been altered, now, but there is something about the man and the lady and the child that makes him realize just how real they are supposed to be for him.

 

So every time that night falls and the boy holds out his hand for Barnaby to grab, he takes it and doesn’t think of anything else.

 

 _Welcome home_ , the boy always tells him, though his mouth doesn’t open to say the words. _Welcome home._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Barnaby meets Arthur again one day.

Of course they meet again at _La Campagna_ , though instead of Rosalie it is her elder brother slumped over a plate of _Tagiolini al Salmone_ , a teacup beside him. From the looks of it, Arthur had been catching breath after undergoing an extensive session of bickering with a certain French pastry chef.

 

Barnaby takes the seat beside the other man, and when Feliciano asks for his order, he does not see the look of recognition dawning in Arthur's face.

 

"Ve, welcome again, _Signor_ Barnaby!" Feliciano has always been a lively, cheerful person, prone to energetic motions and all-encompassing hand gestures. "What will you be having today?"

 

Barnaby scrutinizes the menu in his hands before flashing the waiter a smile. "An order of _Ravioli el Salsa di Noci_ will be just fine, thank you." A cursory beat passes, and he remembers something else. "Oh, and I'd love to try those new strawberry pastries you were telling me that Chef Francis was making, later."

 

"So Signor Barnaby's getting ravioli in walnut sauce and the strawberry-filled éclair, un!" Feliciano counts off the items in his hands, clearly not needing a pad to write orders in. "Just wait for a little, okay?"

 

Before he leaves, Feliciano hands Barnaby a glass of water that he spends a few blank moments of silence sipping at.

 

"Pardon me, my good lad...Barnaby Brooks, Jr., right?" The man sitting beside Barnaby - Arthur - holds out a hand in greeting, and Barnaby shakes it.

 

"It is nice to meet you again, Lord Kirkland."

 

"So she was right, after all..." Arthur begins, shaking his head. "I've heard a lot about you from my sister. You don't have to use titles; when you saved my sister, you made yourself part of the family."

 

Barnaby thinks that it was best that this conversation was out of Kotetsu's line of hearing, for the old man simply did give double meanings to everything and he did not want to see Kotetsu play matchmaker again, _ever_. (Not after the one time with Karina, Ivan, and the ice cream the two of them considered dunking the meddling Kotetsu in.)

 

Arthur sips on his tea, nonchalant. "Why don't you call me Arthur, and I call you Barnaby? That is, if you'd want me to..."

 

"That would be fine, Arthur."

 

"Oh, and Rose told me to tell you that while she thinks your calling her 'Lady' is sweet, you're free to call her by name anytime you want to."

 

Barnaby's first course of action is to puzzle out how on earth Arthur and Blue Rose know each other, but then his mind realizes oh, a nickname and he suddenly wants to headslap himself. "Please give your sister my regards."

 

A girl approaches them, then, so Barnaby doesn't see Arthur whisper "Just like his father, huh" to himself. (This was probably for the best, since Barnaby’s father died twenty years ago and then Arthur would have to explain how they knew each other, which would take quite a while.)

 

"Hello again, _Signor_ Barnaby." The female chef almost-purrs, batting her eyelashes in a way that makes Arthur blush even though he knows that Romana's flirting is not meant for him. "It has been a week since you last came here! How mean of you, leaving a girl to miss you like that."

 

"Oh, right, the last time I came here, your brother was the one cooking." Barnaby smiles with the little chuckling-thing he does that makes all the girls (hard-hearted Romana included) swoon. Forget everything that Alfred said about the Super Rookie being "doomed with Arthur's blood", Arthur's boy sure knows how to get them, and get them good.

 

"Exactly." Chef Romana is leaning over the counter now, her head in her hands and her vest straining over her rather... _ample_ chest. Since when did South Italy wear clothes so tight? And since when did England care? Barnaby should have some secondary NEXT power making him immune to female seduction, Arthur theorizes. "I trust that you won't leave me waiting again?"

 

Barnaby's face right now, compared to when England sees him on TV, is brighter, almost ethereal - though that may be more because of the ravioli he is chewing on than anything else. "I'd count on it, Miss Romana - your cooking is so good, I won't miss it for anything in the world."

 

"I'll be expecting you soon, then." Romana's smile is slow and absolutely beguiling, something that one would miss when she turns and walks away, her hips swaying with every step. England can't help but swallow down to keep his throat from gasping at air.

 

She steps closer to England, and whispers under her breath so Barnaby won't hear - in her usual bossy, commandeering tone, "It's not for you, _Inglatera_ , so stop looking."

 

He does, if only to make sure the chef won't put poison in his pasta when he comes back.

 

Barnaby is oblivious, slowly savoring his ravioli as if the world around him has ceased to exist. Lovino Vargas and Romana Vargas may be rude and bratty at times, but damn they knew how to make good food. The taste of the salmon cream sauce lingering in Arthur's taste buds is proof enough of that.

 

"How do you do that?" Arthur says thoughtlessly, twirling spaghetti strands over the tines of his fork.

 

"Do what?" Barnaby gets a spot of cream sauce on his chin and reaches for his napkin to swipe it off.

 

At his nonchalance, England can't help but raise an eyebrow. "Have the ladies at your feet."

 

"It's nothing, Arthur. All part of the job, you see."

 

"You're doing quite a fine job of it, and I can see the reason why Apollon needs you, Barnaby." England shakes his head, both for emphasis and to wring out errant thoughts of a certain curvy Italian chef. "Nobody is immune to you."

 

Barnaby's gaze is suddenly lowered, his gaze resting on the ravioli but not quite focused on them. Arthur thinks he may have said something wrong, even when the other blond begins to speak. "It's not the reason I became a Hero, Arthur - I volunteered myself, to exact revenge on my parent's killer...or maybe that's what he _wanted_ me to believe."

 

Arthur has been through the worst of wars and the toughest of inhumanities, but he still feels that irrational pang of fear from the malice in Barnaby's voice as he puts emphasis on the last part of his sentence. Thankfully, the malice clouding the Hero's expression went as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry - I wasn't supposed to say that, how unbecoming of me."

 

"No, no, it's all right." Bonnefoy had always been the one more glued to Hero TV since the Nations found out about Sternbild, and so he was the one who told Arthur about a certain Albert Maverick and the havoc he wreaked upon Barnaby's life. It was one of the many conversations Arthur had with the Frenchman that he had conveniently blocked out of his mind until that moment, and it embarrasses him that he could remember everything else and yet forget such an important thing about his favorite Hero.

 

"I'm actually supposed to vent out emotions to people around me, but I don't want to force them on the people I know, and I guess Kotetsu already feels the same things I do so I don't want to burden him any more by making him my sounding board." Arthur now knew that there was no doubt that Barnaby was undergoing something called PTSD, but still he worried about his partner. Kaburagi should consider himself very lucky, indeed.

 

"And...I don't know. I just felt safe with you, so it just slipped out." A faint blush appears on the man's cheekbones, and it makes England smile. "I'm sorry, again."

 

"No, my dear lad, don't worry about it." Arthur spears the last of the smoked salmon with his fork and chews on it. It is perfectly natural to feel safe with one’s own Nation, he thinks but does not say. Not yet. "And besides, it's always best to have a sounding board! In my case...Bonnefoy's been nothing but a punching bag, and it's not exactly the best way to let out steam...though it's kind of exhilarating. In a way."

 

"That's right, you are always with Chef Francis." Barnaby says thoughtfully, before chewing on another piece of ravioli. "The two of you are friends, are you not?"

 

There is a beat of silence. Then another one. Then two. Then three. Then Barnaby thinks that maybe being around Kotetsu is affecting him; making him a meddler as well.

 

"'Friends'...isn't exactly the best way to describe it." England says after drinking his tea, so he could explain away his facial expression to the tea leaves being soaked for too long. "But we have known each other a long time, yes."

 

He'd normally want to leave it at that, but Arthur finds himself continuing on anyway. The things he did for his children. "We were raised at the same place, by the same people at one point." In the same Empire, under the same Caelius. "And ever since then, we've always been together, sometimes finding ways to agree with each other and always failing. We don't specifically like being around each other, but life's thrown us together so much that I guess we just get used to one another enough to not rip each other's throats out."

 

"That's good." Barnaby starts, voice genuinely amused, but then he backtracks. "It's not necessarily  good that you're still thinking of ripping each other's throats out if no one is there to stop you, but it's an improvement all the same."

 

"Since you're the one saying it, I'll believe it." Arthur chuckles humorlessly to himself, thinking however could anything that he and Francis did together be an improvement in any way. For all he knew, all the two of them had done right in the past centuries was not kill each other, and that was putting it nicely.

 

But Barnaby has that heavenly glazed-over look in his eyes again, and now England suspects Romana of having a cooking NEXT that makes people all warm and fuzzy inside...or a sedation NEXT. Maybe she was using a combination of both. "I still remember when I used to feel that way; it seems like so long ago."

 

"Hmm?" Arthur mumbles while savoring his tea, as if he does not know what Barnaby is talking about. (Of course he was referring to Kaburagi; was there really anyone else?) On the other hand, Barnaby unzips a jacket pocket and Arthur...honestly doesn't remember this popping up in any of his Hero TV conversations with Francis. The piece of fabric that Barnaby has in his hands was winded out of the small coil the Hero most probably rolled it in, and England can see red borders and lettering with charred edges against a white backdrop turned grayish by…flames, perhaps.

 

Barnaby turns it over to face Arthur, and he sees them: two simple words, " _Let's Believe_ ". "We were partners a few months back then, I guess. I never found a reason to think of him as anything more as a nuisance, and I guess he thought of me the same way." The look in Barnaby's eyes at that moment strangely reminds Arthur of the late Barnaby when he talked about Emily, somehow; England chooses not to compartmentalize this knowledge any further. "Maybe we tried to get along, maybe we tried to compromise, maybe I was beginning to like having him around but knew that such a thought would only distract me from my purpose. Maybe nothing was ever supposed to work for the two of us, back then."

 

"But that doesn't matter anymore - what matters was that he took a hit for me. That's when this sash was burned, and I guess it all started from there." Barnaby turns the fabric around in his hands as if it is an expensive multifaceted diamond, and for some reason England feels a lump forming in his throat. "The words are prophetic, in a way."

 

"Tiger is lucky to have you," Arthur says, mainly because there is nothing else more true in Sternbild than that one fact.

 

"I'm lucky to have him, you mean." Barnaby says in reply, without any trace of irony or embarrassment. The last ravioli enters Barnaby's mouth with a little pop, and the smile on his face could outshine the sun; it is a beautiful sight to behold, and Arthur remembers Barnaby Senior and the words the man had said before they left the nursery: _when my boy grows up, I don’t care what he wants or who he chooses to be, I just want him to be happy_.

 

The best thing about being immortal, Arthur thinks, is that you are able to see people's long-term dreams come to fruition, even if they no longer can.

 

"Well, that makes the two of you the luckiest men in Sternbild, huh?" Arthur laughs, and Barnaby does as well, even if neither of them find it funny. Luck, after all, could only hold out for so long.

 

Romana comes back with Barnaby's éclairs and Arthur's bill. After setting down the plate on Barnaby's side of the counter with a smile and a coy wink, the chef all but slams the bill on Arthur's side.

 

"Pay, _Inglatera_ ," she mutters under her breath, barely enough for Arthur to hear. "And leave."

 

She has however factored out the fact that Barnaby is both a Hero and a NEXT; of course he had heard her. "Do I need to leave as well, Miss Romana?"

 

The frown on the chef's face suddenly reverts to one of her rarest and most beautiful smiles, and Romana forgets her minor goal of chasing out the English to focus better on her major goal of flirting with Barnaby. "Oh, no, _dolcezza_. You're a VIP of the VIPs, so that makes you free to stay for as long as you want...like, say, forever?"

 

"Offering me forever with perfect pasta and a pretty girl? Hmm, sounds tempting." Romana's eyes are almost sparkling, taking in the way Barnaby seems to give it some thought...but then his call bracelet goes off. "Excuse me, I have to take this call." Turning to Arthur and gesturing to his wrist, he says, "Would you mind if I took the call here?"

 

England shakes his head no, and when the hologram screen reads _'Kotetsu'_ , all there is left for a suddenly disgruntled Romana to do is go back to the kitchen muttering something about old men throwing wrenches into her plans. (She was looking in the direction of the espresso machine so intensely that it broke, actually, and Feliciano fell silent in his surprise.)

 

"Hello, Kotetsu."

 

"Bunny?" The man is exactly how Kiku had described him to Arthur; dark hair and tan skin and golden eyes, goofy smile and clumsy posture and knack for using nicknames. "Sorry to bother you, but did you see my mask?"

 

With one hand, Barnaby produces a black domino mask from somewhere in the vicinity of his jacket and brandishes it in front of the hologram like a keycard to a hotel room. "Your memory must be really fluctuating, old man; you left it under the counter at _La Campagna_."

 

"Oh, right, I did have a drink with Honda-san the other day..." At Barnaby's raised eyebrow, Kotetsu explains himself. "He used to work for Hero TV. We got into remembering the old days, and I put on the mask to humor him."

 

Barnaby says "I see" the same time Arthur's mind thinks the same. So that was Honda's cover in Sternbild, huh? Arthur finds himself thinking how much the other Hero must have picked up from his conversations from Japan. From the looks of it, it’s either he does not know anything at all, still, or this Kotetsu is just pretty good at playing a fool.

 

"Speaking of which, Bunny, who’s that guy next to you?" Kotetsu squints on the other side of the screen, trying to make out the unfamiliar face. "I think I’ve seen him somewhere…"

 

Barnaby replies for Arthur before he can speak, and his tone is somewhat patronizing. "Kotetsu, this is Lord Arthur Kirkland, Rosalie’s brother. I daresay he wouldn’t want to remember you, because the first time you two met you ruined his lovely scarf."

 

Kotetsu’s face is blank at first, seemingly not understanding what he is hearing, and then he makes this face that might have signaled that his mental gears have finally caught up. "Oh. Oh – oh!" One of his fists plops against his open palm in an almost comical, childish gesture of remembrance, and then suddenly his cheeks grow warm and his countenance gets a tad bashful. "I-I’m sorry for that, Lord Kirkland, sir."

 

"No, no, it’s all right, my good lad, I’m okay." But I won’t ever wear my good scarves when I know you’re around to spill things on them, England’s mind amends. "Speaking of which, the next time you see Honda, please send my regards to him."

 

"Will do, Kirkland, sir." Kotetsu mutters sagely, almost to himself. On the other hand, Barnaby does that little face that shows he is trying his best not to smile, but is failing miserably. When Arthur grins a little grin and returns his attention to his bill (who knows, maybe Chef Romana had added more zeroes to his balance, out of spite), the two partners continue talking about something or other – something about Japanese maples?

 

Listening further, Arthur picks up that they were actually talking about a little girl named Kaede and how the two of them were going to have to bring her to _La Campagna_ over the weekend. Barnaby suddenly remembers his dessert, and berates Kotetsu for turning the former’s attention away from perfectly delicious strawberry éclairs. At that, Kotetsu stops talking, and apologizes to his partner with a sheepish smile on his face.

 

"See you around then, Bunny."

 

As the call disconnects, England chuckles silently to himself, though when he speaks he does not intend to mock. "Bunny. Whyever you allow yourself to be called that - by a grown man, no less! - mystifies me, Barnaby."

 

"Indeed, it's a strange thing, isn't it?" Barnaby replies, seemingly deep in thought, smiling contentedly to himself. Right now, the way Arthur sees him, the way Rosalie had seen him; Barnaby's smile is different from the smile he gives the sponsors, the fangirls, Hero TV. It has been, the whole time the two of them have been sitting here. At first, Arthur had chalked it up to the fine Italian pasta, but right now he realizes that it was not a thing or an event that has changed Barnaby Brooks, Jr. The conditioning stimulus was just a single person.

 

"It's silly, and by no means manly, and I won't tell Kotetsu this, but," The first éclair is half-eaten, and Barnaby's eyes flutter closed for the littlest of moments, savoring the taste of puff pastry, strawberries and cream. "Since it is the first thing Kotetsu gave me, it's important to me."

 

England thinks back to all the times he has been called a rabbit, in retrospect. Sure, France did have more reason to call him a bunny (because of the spell gone wrong with the rabbit ears that reached to his knees), but it was only the one time in his childhood, and still the nickname outlived countless empires and two World Wars. Most of the times he has been referred to as such, he had either flushed madly or lashed out on the one who called him - most usually, both. But there are some times, his moments of weakness, when he actually answers back.

 

Those may have been the moments when his subconscious reacts to the unfortunate nickname the same way Barnaby now does in everyday life. As a gift, rather than a curse.

 

"Someone once told me something very important." Francis had, back when England had taken Canada and the Frenchman had begged Arthur to let Mathieu keep his name. "He told me that names are given by people to those they love...and they are only accepted by the people who return the feeling."

 

(In a far corner of the open kitchen, a certain pastry chef's ears pick this up, and the aforementioned chef smiles.)

 

Barnaby re-adjusts his glasses, and the way Arthur is looking at him those green eyes are coincidentally hidden by the glare of the lights shining overhead reflected in the lenses. But it does nothing to hide his flushed cheeks, or his smug little smile. "I think your friend may be right."

 

There is one short mass of seconds after those words are spoken, in which the opened door leads to the manifestation of an unnaturally strong gust of wind (and Barnaby is left thinking "Sky High, is that you?"), while the receipt of Arthur's meal, laid flat on the table, is taken away from the breeze, and the two men reach for the receipt at the same time, and their hands brush softly against each other –

 

Arthur waits for the reality to sink in, for Barnaby to snap out of his reverie and realize who he is talking to, like what Kiku had said happened to Kotetsu. So when those green eyes (much, much like his own) avert their gaze, Arthur expects Barnaby to ask...

 

"Arthur, are you okay? You don't look like you're feeling well."

 

...only to remember that he was wearing his thick gloves today. But England does not answer the question, only grips one of Barnaby's wrists to keep him, and says "Barnaby. Look at me."

 

And he does. He looks at Arthur without a care in the world, no sudden bursts of remembrance whatsoever. In those moments, England suddenly finds himself worrying. Was Maverick really that thorough? Memories of him visiting the senior Barnaby in the background of the junior Barnaby's childhood, how Rosalie had taken Samantha and the boy away from the fire, how he and Rosalie had taken the boy in when his parents died, how they had raised him away from any orphanage Maverick might have planted in Barnaby’s records? Were all those years but barriers Maverick had to break to create his perfect pseudo-white knight?

 

"Your eyes look okay, Arthur." Barnaby says finally, breaking eye contact, breaking England's hope. "I was worried the wind affected your head somewhat; that happens sometimes, you know." Barnaby does this little gesture that means 'Kotetsu' without saying anything outright.

 

As Barnaby drops off a rather sizable amount of money next to his empty plate, Arthur looks down at his hands and gives up. Maybe Barnaby won’t ever remember him like Kaburagi does Honda. Still, as the Hero’s fatherland, Arthur will still be watching over him. England’s heart should not be aching – after all, millions of people have been born as his sons and daughters and have lived and died not knowing he existed. This was normal. Not being known by his children hurt, but it was good because even if he cannot live without them, he knows that they can live without him.

 

England is in the middle of contemplating his entire existence when the sound of Barnaby’s chair scraping across the floor tiles makes him look up. The former King of Heroes is smiling, and his eyes are calm as he turns to the (his) Nation, and says:

 

"So, that’s that. See you around, Arthur. Say hi to Lady Rosalie for me." Arthur nods, solemn and unfeeling, making him exceedingly surprised when he hears Barnaby’s next words:

 

"Thanks for everything, by the way." The Hero turns away, almost hiding his smile. "You raised me well."

 

Barnaby’s back is to him, but still Arthur’s gaze is riveted to what would’ve been the location of Barnaby’s eyes had the latter been looking at him. "What – how did you – wait, you knew?"

 

For a moment, Barnaby’s gaze turns back to England, and even if it is only for a moment Arthur could see a trace of the look of relief the Super Rookie had when Wild Tiger had recovered from H-01’s plasma gun. "I’m the member of Tiger and Bunny who collects his information seriously, aren’t I?" He makes this little salute and says finally, "See ya."

 

Long after Barnaby is gone, Arthur follows him out as well, leaving money on the table for Romana to find. England’s hands are in his coat pockets, and his smile is hidden behind his scarf.

 

"Barnaby’s grown to be a good man, Brooks." Arthur says quietly, looking beside him as if expecting to see the man’s spirit appear beside him. "And he’s finally happy, like you wished."

 

_You’re lucky to have him._

**Author's Note:**

> First things first, food references!  
> Orecchiette con Broccoli e Pomodoro - "Orecchiette with Broccoli and Tomatoes", orecchiette in a tomato-based sauce with broccoli and Parmesan  
> Zitoni col Ragu Napoletano - "Zitoni with Neapolitan Meat Sauce", zitoni in tomato-based sauce with pork leg and porkchops, salami and red and white wines  
> Tagiolini al Salmone - "Tagiolini with Smoked Salmon", tagiolini in a cream-based sauce with smoked salmon  
> Ravioli el Salsa di Noci - "Ravioli with Walnut Sauce", spinach and ricotta-filled ravioli in a sauce of mascarpone/cream cheese and walnuts  
> Special thanks to my mother’s copy of Diane Seed’s “The Top One Hundred Pasta Sauces”, which is my major reference for writing the pasta dishes in the TPP series. And also, in the part where I was describing the commercial, I never did say who got what, didn’t I? But I think you’ve all noticed by now that I keep giving Barnaby the meatless, if not cream-based, pasta dishes.  
> Also, finally done with this monster of a prompt. I didn’t mean for it to wind up being this long, I swear. It just…did.  
> Part 1 (Kotetsu ruins Barnaby’s scarf): 3 pages, 824 words  
> Part 2 (Arthur and Barnaby Sr. when Barnaby Jr. is born): 3 pages, 798 words  
> Part 3 (Barnaby meets Rosalie): 8 pages, 2295 words  
> Part 4 (Barnaby gets weird dreams): 2 pages, 459 words  
> Part 5 (Barnaby and Arthur meet and talk in the pasta place): 12 pages, 4105 words  
> …told you it ran away from me. Somewhere along the vicinity of Rosalie and Romana…I swear, the genderbends are taking a hold of my plot bunnies.  
> Starting from here, the pasta place will now be called “La Campagna”, from Ate Sisi’s list of name suggestions. Also, I’ve tried to tie up this chapter with the Kotetsu + Japan one, but it’s really subtle and I don’t think you’d notice it.  
> Half of the title comes from some lyrics in Adele’s “My Same” (which I saw in a fem!Fr/fem!UK FST once), which go “Favoritism isn’t my thing, but in this situation I’d be glad to make an exception.” And half comes from this “…is/isn’t my division” thing I’ve seen going around on tumblr, which I think comes from BBC Sherlock, if I’m not wrong. And if it does come from there, then I guess it’d fit, since it’s a British show, anyway XD  
> Anyway, I know I’ve written exactly two other fics referring to a female England, one of them actually being about her (the second had Piri briefly mention her in passing), and in the first fic I call her Alexandra, in the second fic I refer to her as Elizabeth. But as I’d be getting along to writing Hungary – Elizaveta – somewhere further along the TPP series, I’ve renamed my fem!England Rosalie here to lessen the confusion. Unlike the fem!England we normally see, my Igiko wear her hair down and does not use those twin tails, which is something I’ve picked up from Ate Chay’s fem!Igiko, Lavinia.  
> I also only realized now that Rosalie is actually a French name, meaning “Rose”, of course, but I just don’t want to name her just Rose (even if Arthur does nickname her that), so it’s staying that way until I can think of anything better. The same goes for fem!France being Marianne…  
> I think I’ve been writing this for weeks (two months, actually – my PC says this was created January 21 and now that I’m writing the AN, it’s February 25), so forgive me if it gets a bit iffy at some parts. OTL Anyway, I hope you’d like it! The series is still ongoing, by the way, so I hope you guys’ll like the rest of it as well!


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